Damned Us All
by mercurymadness
Summary: Originally, this was supposed to be a one chapter thing...but not anymore! Ch.6 is up! Hatter is trying to reconstruct Alice in his own image...but will he succeed? Read and Review!
1. Two Twisted Viewpoints

Down ,down, down…

Down into the darkness. The filth. The rot and decay. Down into the innermost portions of the damned asylum, where there is naught but madness and deep despair, the Lord of it all dwelt. And there he stays, and thinks. He puts to work the mind that has been mutilated and utterly twisted by the very substance that gave him his trade. Quicksilver. Mercury. Silver insanity. Madness in a bottle.

Yes, the Mad Hatter, pocket watch in one hand and screwdriver in the other, was thinking of expansion. His portion of Wonderland was not nearly as big as he wished it to be. Jealousy scorched him, thinking of the Red Queen and her dominion over all. Over _him_. He paid no tribute, preferring to be left alone. But she was growing gluttonous and greedy. A letter had arrived just yesterday, ordering him to create a force of two hundred Automatons for the already impressive royal army. _She gives me orders like some kind of slave, _thought he, tightening a minuscule screw on his watch. Paranoia ate at him, amplified by the madness within. What if she sets a trap, and he is ambushed? What if she turns his own creations against him? What if…?

Through his thoughts, he realized that he had been tightening the same screw. Looking down, he saw that he had stripped it. He would need another screw. Disgusted with himself, he threw the watch and screwdriver onto the table in front of him. He needed to formulate a plan as soon as possible. If he did not meet the date set for the delivery, the Card-guards would be knocking down his doors. Smashing his clocks. Destroying the mirrors in the Funhouse. Spilling his precious chemicals. Chaos would reign. The Hatter shuttered at this thought. If there was something that he hated more than the Queen, it was chaos.

But what to do? The situation was really very complex. One action would usually lead to another that he disliked. For example, he thought of using Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum in some sort of offensive strategy. They would make interesting kamikaze units, that was for certain. If he stuffed their stomachs with bags of gunpowder and acid, strapped on massive amounts of explosives, sent to them to the Queen to negotiate (though the dumb idiots probably don't even know the meaning of the word), and detonated them right in the throne room, it may do the trick. It certainly was an amusing thought…but he soon thought better of it. Those two would probably mess everything up and drag my problem down lower than it already is.

A smile in the dark. Though pitted with holes and bloodstained in some places, it was a smile nonetheless. Glowing eerily from the darkness at the other side of the table, it was soon joined by two glowing yellow eyes. There was a soft padding of feet, mixed with the tapping of talon-like claws. The Cheshire Cat emerged from the darkness, standing about six feet away from his enemy.

The first thing that the Mad Hatter thought to do was to strangle the life from this mangy creature and break his body over and over again, until the entrails covered his gloves in steaming ecstasy. But, as sudden as the swing of a pendulum, he changed his mind, and stayed where he was. He was no longer a threat. Alice had been killed about a week earlier in a climatic battle with the Hatter himself. Still, suspicions were raised.

"Cat…come to mourn for your defeated champion? At least while her body is still whole and…unspoiled?"

The Hatter's unspoken plans for Alice's corpse caused a brief surge of anger within the Cat. But it quickly subsided. This was no time to get angry.

"The body is of no concern to me, Hatter. It is merely a shell now, and has no use even to the Mock Turtle. What resided within it before she came across you was much more interesting."

"Then why have you come?" the Hatter snarled, gripping his cane tighter. "As you know, there is a rule here in the asylum, and that rule is no animals may roam free and un-experimented on. So unless you wish to surrender yourself to me, the same way the March Hare and Dormouse have done…"

"They never surrendered to you. You merely captured them and drugged their brains out so they still believe that everything is the same."

The Hatter let a dry laugh leave his lips. "I see that, definition-wise, you are a cat of very little brain. They were weak. What I did was a mercy to them, for they could never handle the changes that Wonderland went through. Had it not been for my keeping them safe, they would have surely perished in a matter of days!"

"And what is payment for their room and board?" asked the Cat, pacing slowly. "An organ or two? Then three, and four, and finally the whole bloody torso?"

"What I gave them in return is far superior to their original parts."

"Oh, the noble hero," said the Cat sarcastically. A mock bow followed the statement. "You act like a savior…but really you have damned us all!"

A silence followed. "Cat," the Hatter began, breaking the silence, "I presume you've developed some sort of death wish, coming here? Questioning my actions so freely? Fearing the truth as Alice did?"

"And what truth is this?" questioned the Cat, still pacing from side to side.

"The truth is that we must always stay this way; that there is no escaping the insanity that has changed us. Alice could not see that, and therefore was a threat to us. Her sanity has no place here in Wonderland. So you see, I did us all a significant favor."

"So says a mad hatter," said the Cat, still now, staring and smiling and hiding the rage that consumed his bony frame. Besides, cats like himself were not supposed to show rage. It was not his species way. Smiling, much like cutting, kept hidden physical emotions that would originally hinder his thoughts. "Then I'm afraid that you are also in hiding from the truth. An insane mind does not have any sense of compassion, friendship, or loyalty, so you could not have been doing us a favor. But yet a 'threat' is sensed. A threat to what? To your perfect little world that you have created? To the madness that you owe it all to? Thought she wielded a knife and a terrible bloodlust, she never threatened me, Hatter. You simply reacted to a new instinct that this madness has gifted you with…much like a fatal disease, or a parasitic worm."

A pause. "She still loved you, despite it all," said the Cat, disappearing little by little, "you know that."

The Hatter smiled wickedly, and got to his feet. "Yes…and I still love her. Now go, or I'll disembowel you. I've already wasted enough time chatting. There's still so much to do…and so little Time."

The glowing faded, and the Hatter was left alone. Cane in hand, he walked to the door of his workshop and opened it. On opposite sides of the room lay the March Hare and Dormouse, tortured and mangled. But the body in the center of the room showed no such signs of neglect, except for the rips of the dress and bloodstains on the apron. There laid Alice, pale, unmoving, and plainly dead. Just seeing her from afar like this made him almost giddy with anticipation. She's mine. All mine, at last. Unarmed, unmoving, unable to wound or think or gasp or scream. The possibilities were endless. So he simply picked the one that grabbed at his attention the most. Besides, he deserved some fun.

The Hatter turned, and locked and bolted the doors. He would be in there for quite a while, and it would be such a pity if someone disturbed him…especially in the first hour or two…


	2. The Toy

A week passed, uneventfully. The Hatter barely seemed to notice, which did not compute with his strong obsession over time. Nevertheless, he had shut out all life just for the sake of concentration. His workshop, which remained locked from the inside all throughout the week, held his new obsession. Therefore, what was the point to leave it? His clockwork obsession seemed a thing of the past. Alice, Alice, Alice…her named ticked in his brain and matched the pumps of his mechanical heart. This gear here. This wheel there. A clamp to be applied at the base of her brain stem to shock her to life once more…and then his love would live again, and would love him and only him. He had already played the part of a skilled neurosurgeon, deftly slicing out the bits of brain that controlled the parts of her that would be replaced by other little machine minds. The three liquids that would fuel her: Mercury, Oil, and Blood, would, at the press of a button, begin to run through her veins, preserving her body, feeding both tissues and gears and warping the sane remnants of her brain. He was so close…another week, and she would be completed. Providing that no one interrupted him…

Of course, no one truly gets what they want. The meditative silence was broken by a pounding at the doors of the workshop. Rage boiled the Hatter's blood at the sudden interruption.

"What the HELL do you want?!" he screamed, rising to his feet. In his anger, he nearly tipped over the generator that would be used to wake Alice.

There was a silence, followed by a stammering reply.

"Uhh…Tweedle-Dum here, s-sir. A big crate has b-been shipped here from the Queen, sir. W-we don't know what's inside, and c-considering that it's for you…w-we didn't dare open it."

Instead of surprise, suspicion and paranoia descended into his mind. The Queen and him had been on bad terms ever since she had thrown him in jail before Wonderland had been corrupted. What was this crate? A large bomb? A deadly disease that would kill his assistants and the insane children used to construct his Automatons? He had half a mind to simply detonate it before he even opened it. However, there was a smidgeon of curiosity concerning the situation. He decided that, yes, he would open it. He was, after all, strong enough to destroy whatever was inside, if he didn't like it.

The Hatter stood. Reaching into the space left between his iron neck and the beginning of his shoulders, he pulled out the key to the workshop doors. Once unlocked, he opened one side just enough to stick his head through. He dared not let even the two idiots that served him see what he was doing. Everyone in Wonderland, except the Cheshire Cat, believed that the Hatter had disposed of her body, and not kept it for experimental means. If word got out that this was not true, War would certainly be waged almost immediately.

"Get your brother," he commanded Tweedle-Dum, "and bring this crate to these doors. You are to go no further than these doors, do you understand me? Any further and I'll nail your skulls together with a hot iron spike."

Tweedle-Dum's pudgy face paled at this, but he managed a hasty "yes sir" before waddling off to find his brother. The Hatter didn't have to wait long. Within ten minutes, the crate was at the doors.

It was large, sturdy, but simple in construction. A large, crimson heart was painted on the top, and the words "M. Hatter" were stamped squarely in the middle of it. A small note was nailed to the side. The Hatter ripped it open, and read:

_To my Master of Clockwork,_

_I offer this gift as partial payment for the Automatons you are to build for me. It is of my creation and of my design, and I'm sorry if, compared to your work, it seems a bit shoddy in manufacture. However, I believe that you will be quite pleased by the contents inside, considering how much time you spend alone in your asylum. I will also remind you that you have two weeks to ship me your mechanical soldiers._

_PS: Her name is Emily._

The Hatter dropped the note to the floor and , pretending that it was the Queen's face, rubbed it into the floor with the heel of his shoe. Satisfied, he took hold of the top of the crate and pulled. The wood cracked and splintered as he tore it off. Surprise flickered across his features when he saw the contents inside.

It was a girl. Or so it seemed. She was positioned as if she was lying in a coffin, her hands placed over her chest, her eyes closed as if she was deep in sleep. Row after row of black stitches crisscrossed all over her perfect body , and only her face was left untouched. A single gear jutted half-way out of her neck, but other than that, there were no other signs of mechanics. Her face was heart-shaped and flawless, her lips were the lightest pink velvet, her hair was pale spun gold. Child-like, yet possessing a woman's curves and grace. This could be easily seen, for she was wearing next to nothing. Only a white, flowing skirt and a strait-jacket-like shirt (which was open all the way down the middle except for a single buckle in-between) adorned this toy-like vision. This was of no shoddy construction. This was a masterpiece.

For a very brief moment, the Hatter's mind left the experiment in his workshop and concentrated on his new toy. Was she really his? Was he hallucinating again? To confirm that she was, indeed, real, he slowly bent down to touch her face. Her pale skin was cold, yet soft and pliable to the touch. A second after his touch, her eyes shot open, and she gasped her first breath. The Hatter jerked his hand away, expecting a trap. But she merely twitched her head and blinked her eyes once more. Her eyes…the palest blue, made with the best glass in the kingdom (unbeknownst to the Hatter), captured his own muddy amber ones in a stare of complete adoration. She smiled, revealing teeth of the whitest ivory, specially crafted and fitted into the correct sockets. She raised her arm in one smooth motion, and placed it on the side of her "coffin". With one swift motion, she broke down the remaining walls of the crate. Raising herself up, never taking her eyes away from the Hatter's, she whispered but one word…

"Master…"


	3. Deception

Tweedle-Dee waddled nervously toward the throne room doors. Half of him screamed that he'd be severely tortured for sure if he continued into the room. But the other, stronger half of him urged him to continue. Besides, the Queen promised that he would be protected from the Hatter's wrath. Plus, she also promised him as much food as he could stuff down his gullet. And the Queen, she was powerful, she was all-knowing, she was…trustworthy? Even Tweedle-Dee didn't know for sure. All he knew was the Queen was offering a far better deal than the Hatter ever offered. He had even tried to convince his bigger, stupider brother, Tweedle-Dum, but he lacked the balls and wits to join him. So Tweedle-Dee had set off alone. It wasn't hard to get there anyway. The Hatter had shown them how to use the portal system that connected the regions of Wonderland years ago. Since then, the brothers hadn't had the need to use them…until now.

Tweedle-Dee took the heavy knocker in his flabby hands, pulled, and let it fall. The noise, like a massive gong, reverberated throughout the room, causing the pools of gore-water nearby to tremble and nearly toppling Tweedle-Dee over. There was a pause, as silence descended for a brief moment. Then the doors began to open, groaning under their own weight. Two Card-guards ushered him into the throne room, their spears already charged with white-hot energy, ready to fire at any moment. However, there was no need. Tweedle-Dee doughy face paled immediately at the sight of the Thing sitting on her throne. Even though this was merely a puppet and not the Queen's true form, her many grasping tentacles and the crazily grinning mask that served as the Thing's face was enough to make Tweedle-Dee, for a split second, wish he was back in the Asylum. Everyone in Wonderland knew what she was capable of: raw, well-ordered, ruthless power.

There was a small flight of stairs before the actual throne began. Tweedle-Dee stopped here, still flanked by the two Card-guards.

"On your knees, you stupid scum!" shouted one of them. He swiftly whacked the back of Tweedle-Dee's stubby legs, causing a collapse on his part. Not even a second later, the puppet-Queen quickly reached out with one tentacle and, seizing the offending Card-guard by the neck, squeezed violently. There was a sickening crunch, and the Card-guards body fell to the floor. His head, however, stayed locked in the tentacles grip. Tweedle-Dee's face was splattered by the last strong spurt of blood from the corpse as it fell. This he could stand. What he couldn't stand was the way the puppet-Queen began to toy with the severed head as she addressed the now-terrified Tweedle-Dee.

"So terribly sorry, my dear Tweedle. My guards, I'm afraid, are rather short on manners."

"It's q-quite alright, your Majesty," stammered Tweedle-Dee.

"No…it's NOT alright!" The puppet Queen suddenly hurled the severed head through one of the large stained-glass windows that populated the walls of her throne room. It shattered, shards of red glass flying every which way. But as soon as the pieces settled to the floor, the breaking process instantly reversed itself. The shards flew back to their original places in the window-frame within seconds, healing the cracks almost as if it was a living thing.

"No one will treat my invaluable spies like the common clay, Tweedle-Dee. Not while I am ruling Wonderland…and I believe that I rule Wonderland alone. Is that perfectly clear?"

"Yes, your Majesty," replied Tweedle-Dee. He had began to wipe the blood off his face with the front of his shirt. So far, he wasn't doing very well, and was only succeeding in smearing it around. Card-guard blood, unlike the blood of the insane children (the blood he was used to), was more like ink in both consistency and staining-power.

"Good. Now, down to business. Tell me this, Tweedle-Dee: how far along is the Hatter in his little Alice project? Did he make use of my ingenious little gift?"

Tweedle-Dee shuffled his feet as he thought about the right sequence of words that he should use to keep his head attached to his body. "Well, your Majesty…he hasn't gone near Alice for about a week now. He's too…err…preoccupied with your toy. He's teaching her everything that he knows… and much more, if you know what I mean."

"Ah, wonderful news. I knew that even the Hatter himself couldn't resist a companion of his own clockwork and oil. How weak-minded men can be sometimes. Don't you agree, Tweedle-Dee?"

"Uh… yes, your Majesty. But I think there's a problem in the plan. Even though Emily is very, very good at distracting the Hatter, it seems like she needs to try harder each day. I'm afraid that he will, one of these days, be strong enough to ignore Emily and start working on Alice again."

The puppet-Queen was thoughtfully quiet for a few moments. "Hmm…well, there's no real need to worry about that quite yet, my pudgy friend. My troops will soon be within his Asylum before he even realizes it…providing that you have the blueprints for me. Do you?"

Tweedle-Dee suddenly bent himself over backwards, splitting himself in two like opening a hinged box. A smaller clone of him leapt out of his massive stomach. In the clones hands was a thick roll of parchment-like paper. The clone ran up the stairs and presented the papers to the puppet-Queen, then leapt back into Tweedle-Dee's stomach. With a powerful shove, Tweedle-Dee pushed the upper half of him back onto the lower half, sealing the massive crack in the process.

After reviewing the blueprints for a minute or two, the puppet-Queen motioned for the remaining Card-guard, who still stood at Tweedle-Dee's side, to take them. "Bring these to my highest commanding officer in the Strategy room, and gather all of my strategists, generals, officers, and the Jabberwocky, if you can find him. I will join you all shortly."

With these words, the Card-guard, with a small bow and "yes, your Majesty", ran out of the room. The heavy iron doors slammed behind him, which puzzled Tweedle-Dee. What else would the Queen want from him? Perhaps he was going to be rewarded for his services…real food! He immediately started drooling, though he tried very hard not to. He couldn't help it. All he and his brother had eaten at the Asylum was the occasional dying insane child who had cracked its head open by its repeated smashing against the walls.

The puppet-Queen raised itself out of it's throne, hovering slowly to and fro above Tweedle-Dee. "I must say, my dear Tweedle, that the information that you have provided me with has been invaluable in all definitions of the word. I thank you from the bottom of the cavity where my heart once was. Ironic, isn't it? To be the Queen of Hearts and yet not posses any heart. The Duchess ate it, did you know? That's why I had her banished. That's why I wanted her head. But I digress. Anyway…I am truly sorry to say this, my friend, but leaving you alive is simply much too risky. The Hatter could easily torture my whole plot and plan out of you in a heartbeat."

Flabbergasted, Tweedle-Dee stared at the hovering puppet-Queen blankly for a few seconds. Then, the realization of what was about to happen hit his brain like a massive falling icicle. Terrified, he turned and ran screaming towards the doors. He was about halfway there when a large iron spike jutted up from the floor and impaled the still-screaming Tweedle-Dee straight through the middle. The spike retracted as soon as it had appeared, and the mutilated corpse of the smallest, but smartest Tweedle fell to the floor, twitching in a small lake of blood and fat.

The maniacal laughter of the Queen of Hearts filled the throne room. Still laughing, she used her puppet to pick up the Tweedle's body, and pulled it towards the throne. But instead of leaving it there, she continued pulling it through a hole in the back of the throne, bringing the body along as well. And the insane laughter was soon interrupted by the sound of teeth crunching bones…


	4. Jealousy

The Mad Hatter laid himself back in his chair, done with the night's entertainment. In front of him on the long table of forgotten tea-times lay his new toy, Emily, sleeping in a rumpled pile of oil-stained white silk fabric. He had tried his hardest to keep her clean, but keeping control of such things while he with her was indeed a challenging task. Her long legs, with small toe-less feet, sprawled outwards towards him, her remarkably flexible fingers curled slightly towards her chest, her pale pink lips parted slightly…all in all, she was very enticing.

However, despite all this, she was not made without intellect. She listened intently to whatever he had to say to her, be it vulgar or political. Her responses were clear and well-spoken, and she always took the side of her new master in any conversation. But there was one thing that was beginning to puzzle the Hatter. Whenever he tried to bring up the subject of Alice, she insisted that he change the subject immediately. Sometimes she would distract him by asking him what he would do if she jumped out of the window into the infinite blackness below, so he would never see her again, and other such unusually suicidal ideas. Although he was, with her, the most satisfied then he had ever been while Wonderland had been corrupted, he was starting to get annoyed.

While the Hatter pondered on these matters, Emily suddenly lifted her head to look at him. She raised herself up slowly, arching her back slightly with a small, cute squeal of comfort. Locking eyes with the Hatter, she asked one shocking thing: "Where is Alice?"

The Hatter looked at her, surprised that she had been the one to utter her name first in the conversation. "My dear girl, why would you want to know such a thing?"

"Oh, well…" Emily rolled onto her hands and knees and began to crawl towards the Hatter slowly, cat-like almost. "I have pleased you well, have I not?" 

"To say that you haven't would be the ultimate lie my dear."

"Well…" Emily, having reached the edge of the table, slid gracefully into the Hatter's arms. "who needs her, now that you have me? I am completed and whole, and Alice still lies there day after day, unfinished…and perhaps even decaying. She'll spread disease and kill the insane children and your fat servants if she lies there for too much longer…"

The Hatter grabbed Emily's chin and lifted her face gently to peer into her eyes. "I can assure you, child, that Alice will not reach that stage for some time. And though you have satisfied me these past two weeks, it is about time that I go back and finish her. The two of you should get along splendidly…"

A flicker of something like repulsion flashed across Emily's face before her features distorted into an angry mask. "But I don't want her! She's fleshy and imperfect, with a beating heart and a mushy, mercury-filled brain! She disgusts me!"

Seeing the reaction on the Hatter's face, Emily changed her look to one of pity and adoration. "We are perfection, can't you see? To have her among us, still human, still FLAWED (she said this with a snarl of rage), would give the two of us a bad name. Besides, I can perform any task that this Alice girl could ever accomplish, and I'll probably be better at it as well!"

The Hatter sighed. Emily plainly didn't understand that Alice had came first before anything. She was his, everyone could see that, they just didn't want him to be happy. That's why they all wanted him to dispose of her body…but fuck them. Fuck them all. Alice would be his…he would just have to make Emily understand this first.

"Emily, you are beautiful and lovely, and very good at your craft. However, Alice came first before any of this ever occurred. She was a beautiful child, and as she grew, I began to want her more and more. But when she had came back to kill the corruption that had given me this intense knowledge, I couldn't let her do it. She just didn't understand that there was no changing what had happened here, and that her sanity simply did not belong. She mistook this for psychosis, of course, and challenged me to a duel of sorts. Of course, you do know who won…"

Emily giggled, cuddling up in the Hatter's spindly arms as much as they would allow. "My Master won, my Master won," she cooed , kissing his face lightly.

The Hatter looked approvingly at her, running a gloved hand through her hair. "That's right, my girl. After an hour of fighting, I gave her a smashing blow to the back of her neck, rupturing her medulla. She died instantly…and the silence that followed, I shall never forget. It was as if Wonderland had breathed a sigh of relief at her passing. I then took her body back to my workshop, and there she lays now, nearly completed."

Emily stared. "The workshop on this floor, my Master? The one with the carved double doors?"

Another surprise. The Hatter was about to ask how she had known that, since he had never let her out of this particular room to explore the halls of his Asylum before, when there was a knocking at the doors.

"One moment, my dear," said the Hatter, placing Emily on the edge of the table once more. "Who's there?" he asked, standing and grabbing the neglected cane that had fallen to the floor in his rush.

"Uh, it's Tweedle-Dum sir. I've got a bit of a problem, sir…"

Opening the doors, the Hatter stared down at his obese servant. "Well, what is it?"

Tweedle-Dum shifted nervously. "Well sir, I, uh, haven't been able to find my bother anywhere sir. He has gone missing before sir, but he always shows up again after a day or two…"

The Hatter glared at Tweedle-Dum. "You interrupted me because you can't find your block-head of a brother?!"

Tweedle-Dum cringed at the outpour of vicious words, almost as if he expected a blow. When he didn't get one, he continued. "Uh, well, sir, it's not just that…someone used the portal in your arena, sir."

The Hatter's face went a paler shade of green rather suddenly after hearing this. Slamming open the doors, he walked out of the room and grabbed Tweedle-Dum by the front of his shirt. Lowering himself so he was face to face with his terrified servant, he whispered calmly, "Now you hear this. If there is any little thing that you know your brother had planned for that portal, you'd best say it now. Because if you don't, I swear, I will make sausages out of your intestines and make you eat them when you're still squirming on the operating table!!"

Tweedle-Dum whimpered, his face tight with fear. "N-no s-sir, I s-swear to you sir, I don't know a-anything s-sir!"

Throwing Tweedle-Dum aside with a small splat against the wall, the Hatter ran forward, his mind only focused on trying to figure out what his traitorous servant had done. So therefore, he had totally forgotten about Emily, who stood alone in the open doorway with a grin on her face that certainly didn't match the mood of her Master. For she had plans of her own…


	5. Realization

The Jabberwocky perched upon the replica of Alice's house that was his domain, surveying his territory of unending afternoon. Clans of Devils, now running rampant across his land, warred with each other in the infinite struggle to gain control. His spawn, however, lay peacefully on flat rocks and showed none of the war-like tendency's of the Devil clans. Of course, he had made them intelligent, finding no need to quarrel amongst themselves unless there was an intruder…and he didn't need to worry about that anymore. Alice was dead and gone, her body dumped into the bottomless-pit blackness surrounding the Mad Hatter's Domain. Or so everyone though…

The Jabberwocky lifted his right wing tenderly, testing the gears that were put in about a month or so ago. The Queen had paid the Hatter a large sum to do the work, for she couldn't have her right hand man in disrepair. He had hated leaving the Asylum, but the currency was direly needed…his supplies were short, and one could never have enough Mercury.

He had told the Jabberwocky not to fly for about a month, letting the gears set into place. This enraged the Jabberwock, now accustomed to his usual patrols around Wonderland. However, there was nothing that he could really do about it, so he mustered up his patience (almost lost in his fiery temper) and waited. Flames of rage spouted from the house nearly every day.

_That mechanical little man, how dare he make me wait so long…. _

The Jabberwocky was pulled from his thoughts by the sight of a troop of twelve or so marching Card-Guards, the dust from their march forming a column above them. The Red Queen's banner, a bloody rose within a crimson heart, struck fear into even the warring Devil clans, who stopped their fighting and fled from the troop. They were heading in his direction…_probably my first order of business, now that I can fly, _though he. He honored the Queen passionately, and was forever at her service.

The troop halted at the bottom of the cliff that held the Jabberwocky's domain, not really knowing how to scale the steep slope. Finally, one by one, each guard started climbing at different spots. The Jabberwock watched with amusement as two of the guards, with a shrill scream, lost their hold on the rocks and tumbled into the lava below. One guard, seeing his friend burned alive in the lava, vomited, nearly hitting the guard beneath him. Though it didn't hit the guard, it hit the banner that the guard was holding, and he lost his grip on it. The pole of the banner then proceeded to smash straight into the skull of a guard that was still on the ground, waiting to start climbing. The Jabberwock chuckled to himself at all this. He hadn't seen such entertainment for some time now, and it did make him feel much better. Another part of the Queens plan, no doubt, to put him in a better mood.

Finally, the remaining nine guards reached his domain. Panting and ragged, they did their best to reform themselves into three lines instead of the previous four. One Card Guard came forward, holding a tattered roll of parchment sealed with a red wax rose. Upon unsealing the roll (taking some time, due to exhaustion and general terror at the presence of the Jabberwock), the guard read:

"General Jabberwock of the Red Queens royal army, the Queen requests your immediate presence in her War Room as soon as possible, concerning treachery involving the Mad Hatter and the possible regeneration of the dread Alice."

The Jabberwocky's eyes widened at the last spoken words. Of course! Why hadn't he seen it before?! Why hadn't he expected that the mad fool of a hatter would try to revive his fucking beloved Alice? He, as well as every other who had chose to turn against Alice, had felt the spark of love still deep inside the twisted old man, yet they had refused to do anything about it. Besides, it had been him that killed her in the first place, right?

The Jabberwocky began to pace wildly, flaring his wings as small tongues of fire escaped from his jaws. Suddenly, with one swipe of his wing, he sent the rest of the Card Guards flying off the cliff into the lava below. Those who didn't hit the lava were instantly killed. _The Queen would have executed them when they got back to the palace anyway_, thought the Jabberwocky. _Letting them know of this information in the first place was risky enough as it was. _

After searching for any signs of life from the bodies, the Jabberwocky spread his wings and launched himself into the air with as much strength as he could muster. If all that the Queens message was indeed true, then there was no time to spare in advising the Queen in her next course of action…

Emily watched as the Mad Hatter ran off to see what kind of mess his servant had got himself into. She felt a whirring inside of her, a click that she had been told would happen at just the right time. A tick, tick, tick, tick…a countdown. She smiled wide, knowing that her goal in life would be completed very soon. For in reality, she loved the Queen like a mother. She was strong, powerful…not like this mechanical man hung up on the past and going against everything that Wonderland now was. And this…Alice! Day in and day out, everything that the Mad Hatter uttered had something to do with her. The jealousy had consumed her, a creature of lust and possessiveness.

But all of that would be remedied very soon.

Emily walked silently to the workshop that held the forgotten body of Alice. Indeed, a pungent odor, slight as it was, had began to seep through the crack around the door. This just served to increase Emily's rage, and she flung open the doors as if she possessed the strength of her master. _An organic, rotting meat bag…why should she get all the love…?_

There Alice lay, surrounded by implements and gears of various sizes and shapes, cold and gray, lifeless. Emily giggled. Nothing in her life would be cold for very long, not any more, not like it had been for the past few weeks. She ached for this…warmth, as others called it. She had never felt it, but the Queen spoke of it as she was being prepared to go. _Do your mission well, and you shall feel the same warmth as other feel around you increased a hundred-fold, my dear girl. _

After securely closing and locking the workshop doors, Emily approached the metal table. The ticking inside her had began to increase, and she knew that there wasn't much time left. For her mother, for her salvation, for the warmth others felt (if only briefly), she needed to complete her mission. Only then would her purpose in life be fulfilled, and she would be at peace.

Emily climbed onto the table. Laying down next to Alice's corpse, she held her like she would a lover, like she held the Mad Hatter to fool him into affection, into trusting her. Pressing her face into her bloody hair, she whispered to her: _The circle is complete. There'll be no one to love us now…_

_Tick…tick…tick-tick-tick-tick-tickticktickticktickticktickTICKTICKTICKTICK_

A blinding explosion…

And then nothing at all.


	6. Broken

It didn't take long for the Jabberwocky to reach his destination. His wings moved with a fluid motion, flowing and smooth. If the Hatter had ever done anything right, the Jabberwocky thought, the proof was his fixed wing. He let loose a jet of flame in his happiness on the warring Devil clans below him, watching with glee as they ran helter-skelter, the burning ones spreading the flames like lit chickens thrown over a castle wall. His Jabberspawn, smelling the burning flesh, roared with delight and eagerly made their way down from their cliffs to feast on the carnage.

Snorting a puff of smoke in satisfaction at the scene, the Jabberwocky continued on. He passed over the Red Chess Kingdom, with their new white chess piece slaves. A white knight was being tortured in the town square, while the new red King looked on. The Jabberwocky paused to watch for a few moments, hovering over the square, peering at the torture with a keen eye. The knight was tied down to a stone table of some sort, being branded with a heart-shaped bit of iron over and over again. The horses head was arched painfully, eyes rolled back nearly into their own sockets, shrieking and whinnying like a demon from the mouth of Hell. The mouth was rife with spasms, bits of blood and saliva spurted from the bitten tongue, the equine face contorted into a mask of broken sanity. The torturer smiled, an evil-looking red Rook. In one last motion, he jabbed the blistering heart deep into the knights left eye. Vitreous fluid and blood gushed, steaming and bubbling, from the socket, and in one last convulsion and shrike of agony, the knight collapsed onto the table, unconscious. The Jabberwocky moved on.

He passed over the mountains, tentacle-covered, pulsing and bloody. He passed over his Queens huge maze of shrubbery; Card-Guards, Boo-jums, and his spawn making their usual patrol about the perimeter. Never did they actually make their way inside the maze, for fear of getting totally lost. No, that was never protocol…and hopefully never needed to be.

He passed over lava and bridges, over gates and turrets. Finally, he reached his Queens headquarters. He hovered over the throne room, and sent a beam from his eyes through one pane of glass. It melted, expectantly, then widened rapidly, until there was a hole big enough for the Jabberwocky to pass through. Descending slowly and landing softly, he came before the puppet Queen, and the hole quickly closed up behind him.

"My Queen," the Jabberwocky began, kneeling as much as a giant mechanical dragon can kneel, "your messengers have delivered your command, and I am here to obey. What they had to tell me was…very disturbing. Is this true? Could Alice come back?"

The puppet Queen rose from her seat, hovering from side to side. "Yes, my right hand, it is true. Our master of clockwork has broken our law and kept Alice's body in an attempt to regenerate her."

The Jabberwocky growled deeply, clenching his claws tightly. "We should have known, your Highness. Ever since that Gryphon we killed escaped from his Asylum, I had suspicions that something of this nature would happen. Perhaps we should have not mistaken the Gryphon's dying screams about Alice for insanity after all."

"Not to worry, my dear Jabberwock. Alice is no longer a threat now, I have seen to it."

The Queen went on to tell the Jabberwocky about her creation that she had delivered to the Hatter, and the true purpose of said creation. She also told him of Tweedle-Dee betraying his master, and the death that proceeded the betrayal.

"Even though this threat has been eliminated, the Hatter will become even madder with grief at the loss of his love. Therefore…I have concluded, based on his actions then and now, that we must destroy the Mad Hatter. Here are the blueprints to his Asylum, my devoted right hand. Let us devise a plan of War…"

--

The Hatter burst through the doors of his Arena, cane clenched tightly, his face twisted in panic. There was the open portal in the center, swirling in a psychedelic blue haze. The Hatter walked forward, wondering where the portal had opened to. There was only one way to find out. The Hatter poked his head through the entrance, only to find that he was staring straight at the Queens throne-room double doors.

He pulled his head back into the Arena, as the realization of what this meant hit him. His servant (the smarter one, of course) had been corrupted by the Queen, somehow. But what had he revealed? Surely he hadn't known about Alice…had he?

The Hatter rushed back into his workshop, pawing through numerous papers and drawers, searching for the ancient blueprints, the originals that he had been foolish enough to not make copies of. He was so busy, he hadn't noticed that Emily was not in her original spot on the table, or by the window, reading one of his anatomy or torture books. She wasn't even in the room, for the matter. The Hatter didn't care. All he wanted were those blueprints. He opened the final drawer, knowing that this was their usual resting place. Bare, except for a lack of dust that indicated that the blueprints once rested there. The Hatter slammed his hands down on the table in frustration, knowing now exactly what had happened. With those blueprints in the Queens tentacles, she could poke into every nook and cranny of his Asylum and completely tear the place apart. Things just couldn't get any worse…could they?

A second or two later, things did. An explosion rocked the Asylum, the vibration strong enough to knock over surgical implements and a bookshelf or two. The Hatter raised his head in alarm. Good lord, that was close. Too close…

Panic seized the Hatter in a vice-like grip. Since the corruption of Wonderland, he had forsaken breathing, but the tightness in his chest made it feel like the bodily function had suddenly came back. That…was close enough to come from the…GOD, NO…the workshop!!

The Hatter ran out of the room, down the hall, and threw open the doors. Dust, smoke, a sickening smell, all poured out of the doors, momentarily blinding him. Waving the clouds of decay hurriedly out of his face, he stepped into his workshop and peered into the fog, trying to find his beloved Alice, trying to see if the explosion had harmed her. What he saw pushed that bit of sanity that allowed him to be somewhat sociable with the others in Wonderland off a cliff and into some sharp, jagged rocks.

It was like a meteor had hit the center of his workshop. The March Hare and Dormouse were two blackened dolls hanging on the wall, now completely lifeless, faces frozen in pain. There was nothing left of the table that Alice had been laying on, nothing but a crater of blood and steaming bits of flesh. The surgical tools that he had been using were now stuck into the stone walls by the blast. The Hatter fell to a kneel, twitching, completely awestruck at the whole scene. His hand touched something hard. He looked down…and there was a bit of Emily's face, broken across like the shattering a porcelain doll. One blue eye looked up at him, a bit of hair clung to the scalp, a pair of teeth in the half-mouth. He lifted it closer, noting the blackened edges and the smell of gunpowder.

All the pieces fell into place. The mysterious show of good will from the Queen, Emily's sudden asking as to where Alice was located, Tweedle-Dee betraying him and going to the Queen with the blueprints. Everything whirled crazily about in his mind, like an out-of-control carousel. He had been set up…used…fooled. And now…he had lost the one thing that had given him just a shred of humanity in the mechanical madness that he had become.

A rage like no other that the Hatter had ever felt consumed him. His hands clenched, crushing the bit of Emily's face into a fine powder, the eye popping out and rolling into a lonely corner of the room. Inside him, blood pressure rose, valves were crushed and tubes burst, leaking fluids onto his strait-jacket. What was left of his ability to create conscious thought was beginning to fade. Consumed in sorrow and fury, he raised his clenched hands to the heavens and cried a cry that was similar to the Cheshire Cat's cry when he felt Alice's life suddenly slip away, saw her beautiful form collapse in defeat. Except this time, there was no form to hold, nothing to whisper comforting words to…nothing but pieces.

_It's time to pick up the fucking pieces…_

And at that, the Hatter's conscious thought process mercifully shut itself down. He fell to the floor in a heap, unconscious, wallowing in nightmares, persecuted by grief, and hounded by an emotion that was novel to him…extreme guilt at what he had done.

_Alice…Alice, it took me so long to convince myself that I hadn't lost you by killing you, that you were still able to be mine again, that I would be able to love you…and now…you're…gone, for good. And Alice, dear, sweet, beautiful Alice…it's all my fault._


End file.
